


Mountaintop

by chelou



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, his name is leo, lucas has a little brother, pining lucas, the first chapter is probably really american and i apologize for that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2020-05-18 19:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19340902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelou/pseuds/chelou
Summary: Eliott and Lucas are best friends and Lucas is madly in love with him???i suck at summaries im sorry, it's a good story i swear.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this was something that I had posted as a Destiel story for Supernatural but I never really clicked with it. hopefully elu will have a different outcome haha please read
> 
> FIC TITLE COMES FROM RELIENT K SONG MOUNTAINTOP AND IT IS MY BEST. 
> 
> also i apologize beforehand for the inevitable amount of mistakes as i am vvvv sleepy and wanted this up before i crashed.

He was sitting underneath a pine tree the first time Lucas saw him, and he was reading a comic book.

They were nearing the end of 6th grade and it was field day. A day where each class teamed up to compete against other classes, the entire day spent playing games of all sorts; board games, outside games, sports games. Everyone had to participate, whether it be in a round of musical chairs inside, or the potato sack race outside, everyone had to do something. At this particular moment though, it was lunch break. The only lunch all year when you weren’t limited to sitting only with your class. You could sit wherever you wanted, with  _ whoever _ you wanted. 

Usually Lucas didn’t make it a point to talk to random kids, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that the boy was reading his favorite comic; X-Men, and admittedly, it made him a little giddy. His other friends weren’t really into the whole comic book thing. Video games, sure, but comics? No, they were much too old for those. Comics were for 5th graders. 

After a little thought, Lucas decided  _ screw it _ and made his way over. As he got closer, he could see just a little part of the cover of the comic, but that’s all he needed. He smiled to himself. “You know, I like the first one the best. Only thing is that Magneto’s a villain.” He could tell by the slight jump in the kids’ shoulders that he startled him a bit. 

“Y-You like x-men?” The boy asked shyly, looking up at Lucas with bright blue eyes. 

“Well yeah, I like all comics but X-Men’s my favorite.” He smiled down at him, contemplating reaching out to shake hands but deciding against it. “I’m Lucas,”

“Eliott,”

\--

\--

After that it was hard to separate the two, despite the fact that Eliott was actually a year older than them and a grade higher. Still, it was rare to ever see one without the other if they had a choice in the matter, and after Lucas introduced Eliott to his other friends after lunch that day, they all welcomed him with open arms. He was a nice addition to the gang, and different from most of them, but that didn’t matter. When everyone hung out on the weekends or after school, it was the 5 of them instead of 4. He fit in well. 

Turns out, Eliott had just moved into the city 3 weeks prior to their first meeting, and it didn’t take long for them to figure out that he and Lucas only lived a few blocks away from each other.

Eliott had never had much friends before he moved and met Lucas and the others. He was always the weird kid who everyone teased for no reason other than he was smarter than them. No one wanted to be friends with him, no one wanted to talk to him unless it was to make fun of him. He was alone. Eventually he got used to it and decided he rather liked his independence. The only reason he was okay with moving was because he was ready for a change, he thought this new town and new school would be different than the last. 

Lo and behold, all it took was one short 6th grader with floofy hair and a matching comic book obsession for him to realize what he had been missing all this time. 

\--

\--

It was high school when Lucas realized he maybe wasn’t all that straight and that there might be a slight possibility that he perhaps harboured some non-platonic feelings for his best friend. First year, to be exact. 

They were just finishing up after a particularly physical and trying P.E class. Lucas was... _ not  _ athletic at all, and to say that his friends weren’t either would be a  _ vast  _ understatement, Yann being the only exception. Eliott, on the other hand, was a totally different story. He was your average sports boy, and unfortunate for Lucas but fortunate for everyone else at their school, puberty hit him surprisingly well. He grew into himself quite a bit, all tall and muscly but not too much. He was still gangly but it was attractive.  _ Very  _ attractive, to be honest. 

It was oftentimes not a great thing for Lucas, what with the amount of times they’ve changed around each other, the amount of times he’s seen Eliott with his fucking shirt off, shit. 

When they had first figured out that they were going to have gym at the same time with each other, Lucas was  _ elated.  _ He hated gym, even with the rest of his dumbass friends, and he figured that since adding Eliott to things that sucked always made them considerately better, it would be the same for this. 

Oh, how he was wrong. 

He could never have anticipated how torturous it would be for him to see Eliott all drenched in sweat, soaking t shirt and dripping hair. Depending on the activity for the day, sometimes he’d have dirt smeared across his face, or if it was hot enough outside he’d take his shirt off. And, again, Lucas has seen him without it a fair amount of times. But when he’s  _ literally glowing  _ in the afternoon sun, his skin sparkling with moisture, whether it be sweat or the water he’s poured over himself to cool off, it’s-- it’s a murdering view. It truly is. And if he’s doing something  _ especially  _ physical, like lifting weights, or even just kicking a fucking ball, something to make his abbs flex a bit, Lucas was done for. 

Every single time, it never got easier. Always a slap in the fucking face. 

Lucas made his way into the locker room, scrunching his nose at the smell - a distasteful mixture of sweat and Old Spice body wash - it wasn’t pleasant. There were bookbags and dirty socks scattered across the floor, towels and clothes hanging off the benches and out of the guys’ lockers. 

He glanced around through the throng of boys’ eyes inevitably searching for that one mob of hair but coming up short. “Hey, has anyone seen Eliott? I thought he was right behind m--” 

“Right here, Lu,” the older guys’ voice came from behind him, cutting off his sentence. Lucas swivels around, not sure what he expected to see but it definitely wasn’t his best friend standing in nothing but a loose pair of sweats. Lucas’ eyes trail down his body - the pale white skin, the dark tattoos that stood out even more in contrast. He slowly drags his gaze up to Eliott’s face, the wet hair lying flat on his forehead, his cheeks flushed from all the activity and the warmth.  _ Sexy  _ is the first thing that comes to mind, even more so when Eliott’s tounge skims across his lips. Lucas involuntarily follows the movement. 

Suddenly there are fingers snapping in front of his face, someone saying his name. “Huh?” he shakes his head, pulling himself from his spell. “Uh, sorry, I was looking for you,”  _ Smooth, Lallemant.  _

“Mhm,” Eliott smirks, “I see that. Everything okay?” 

“Oh, Lulu’s fine, isn’t he?” Arthur chimes in, slapping his hand to the middle of Lucas’ shoulder blades, maybe a little too harshly but it’s totally okay. There’s a knowing look on his face, and it’s only then that Lucas realizes he might not have been all that subtle with his gawking. He quickly gathers himself, eyes jerking up to the rest of his friends. Yann’s cocked an amused brow at him and Basile just looks as confused and oblivious as always. 

“Eh..” he gulps, “I just wanted to know if we were still on for after school..” he words fall off and he internally chastises himself for becoming so fucking awkward out of absolutely nowhere. 

Eliott beams, bright and beautiful and so damn sweet. “Wouldn’t miss it,” and fuck, it means a thousand times more that Lucas knows just how serious he is when he says shit like that. Somehow he always manages to make Lucas his number one priority, no matter what. 

The shorter boy clears his throat, “Um-- cool, okay,” he stammers, feeling his cheeks heat up. Eliott chuckles at him and walks past him to the showers. Lucas has a hard time not watching him go. When they’re alone he hears his friends snicker, and he turns a questioning gaze towards them. 

“Dude,” Yann starts, his eyes laced with mirth and only a tiny bit of pity. “You gotta get it together,” 

\--

\--

It was second year when Lucas came to the conclusion he might just be a little in love with his best friend. 

He was sitting at their groups’ lunch table with Manon and Yann, waiting on the everyone else when they heard commotion on the other side of the cafeteria. 

Fuck, Gabriel and Simon were cornering some poor boy again. They were the only two assholes in the school who thought it necessary to pick on every innocent and defenseless little first year they could find. At the beginning of the year they had decided their target was going to be Leo, Lucas’ younger brother, because he was scrawny and tiny, an unfortunate aspect of the Lallemant Curse. However, it didn’t take long for them to realize how horrible of an idea it would be for them to pick on someone who has an actual pack of body guards full of second years, and 5 against 2 might prove to be difficult. 

This time though, something felt off. Lucas couldn’t quite put his finger on it until he heard an even louder commotion. Students started gathering around the boys’ across the room, yelling and cheering them on. He’s not typically one to loiter around a fight scene because he sees no use in it - but there was something about this particular uproar that made him stand up to see what all the ruckus was about. 

He and Yann both start climbing out of their seats at the same time when Basile comes running over towards them, out of breath. “Guys, Eliott-- he-- and Gabriel-- they’re--” 

Lucas didn’t need to hear anymore - he surges into action, sprinting across the lunch room and elbowing his way through teenagers until he’s able to get the front of the crowd. It was there that he sees Eliott standing with his back facing Leo. His shoulders are wide, chest out. It was the human equivalent of posturing. 

The first thing Lucas does is put a hand on his brothers’ shoulder and check him for any injuries. “What happened, are you okay?” Leo nods, his eyes trained on the two in front of them, and before Lucas knows what’s happening, Gabriel swings himself forward and Eliott's ducking, successfully dodging the others’ right hook. He shoves Gabriel into the wall, pressing a forearm to his throat and hissing something that Lucas couldn’t hear, but all he knew was that the veins in Eliott’s neck were sticking out, his face was red with anger. He was visibly seething. 

Eliott was a laid back guy - very few things could get that sort of reaction out of him, and it wasn’t often that he got upset enough to get physical. In all the years of their friendship, Lucas has seen Eliott this way less than a handful of times and it’s only when someone has insulted his family, or they’ve insulted his friends. Specifically, Lucas. (It wasn’t a great night for this guy at a party last year when he tried to force himself on Lucas and then called him a tease when he wasn’t returning the so called  _ affection.  _ Lucas thought he might witness an actual homicide after Eliott got involved.) 

“Eliott,” Lucas tries, pushing forwards more. “Eliott, come on,” he puts a hand on his friends’ shoulder and attempts to pull him back but the task was more easier said than done. 

“Listen to your boyfriend, Eli,” Gabriel leers, and Lucas is surprised the guy could even breathe with how purple his entire head was turning, let alone speak. Still, Lucas rolls his eyes and ignores the ‘boyfriend’ comment, having grown used to it ever since he came out last year. Apparently that was the impression that quite a few people get while watching the two interact. 

“Eliott,” he whispers again, closer now and right into his ear. Finally, the boy lets loose releasing Gabriel from his grip and taking a step back. He takes the opportunity for one last push before grabbing his bag off the ground and stalking off. Lucas rushes after him, catching up in the hallway and wrapping a hand around his wrist. It pulls him to a halt and forces him to turn around. 

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell that was?” 

Eliott won’t meet his eyes. “It was nothing,” 

_ “Bullshit,”  _

“They were fucking with Leo,” he mumbles, and his knuckles are white from where they’re clinched to the strap of his bookbag. Lucas takes a steadying breath, a nasty feeling whirling inside his stomach at the thought of his brother in any sort danger. 

“What happened.” 

Though he can really only the see top of Eliott’s scalp from his head being tilted down so low to avoid eye contact, he’s willing to bet money that the older boy is chewing on the inside of his lip right now because that’s what he does when he’s feeling uneasy about things. “He was against the wall when I got there, that’s all I saw. I stepped in, Simon caught me off guard before I could do anything and..” he gestures to the side of his face but Lucas has no idea what he’s referring to. 

He could have guessed that it had something to do with Leo. Only an idiot would fail to put the clues together, but for some reason it sparks some sort of  _ something  _ inside of Lucas to actually hear it; to hear Eliott say that he just got himself into a physical altercation to protect his best friends’ baby sibling. And it makes sense, really, because at this point Leo is every bit Eliott’s little brother as he is Lucas’, or Yann’s. 

Lucas doesn’t like conflict, and he tries to avoid it if he can. He doesn’t find it attractive to see guys fight, it doesn’t get him going, it doesn’t make his heart burst with admiration or any shit like that. But with Eliott-- it’s not so much the act as it is the mere thought that he knows Eliott  _ would  _ do it for him. The assurance. Not that he’d ever ask for it, and the times that it has happened, Lucas has immediately tried to put a stop to it, but he thinks it’s the fact that there are so many straws you’d need to break to get Eliott  _ to  _ that point, and more than half of when he has he’s done it for Lucas. 

Not to be top dog, not to assert dominance or imply that Lucas can’t look after himself, like he’s some helpless damsel in distress, but because he’s  _ that  _ protective over to the younger boy. He cares about him that much. 

He cares about  _ Leo  _ that much. 

It’s endearing. 

“Let me see,” 

“Lucas, it’s fine,”

_ “Eliott.”  _

The boy reluctantly lifts his head up, and doing so locks eyes with his friend. It doesn’t last long, however, when Lucas breaks it to observe the swollen cut that’s growing on Eliott’s cheek. Without hesitation, he brings up a hand to gently brush his thumb underneath it. Eliott lets out a harsh breath but doesn’t pull away. 

“Fuck,” Lucas growles. It wasn’t bleeding much, but it was fairly large and already turning purple. He glances back up to catch Eliott’s eyes again, and as soon as he does, all of the anger, all of the irritation and the ire-- it was gone. He swallows, moves his hand to Eliott’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” 

\--

\--

Now, they were in university.  _ Fucking university.  _

It was Lucas’ second year, Eliott’s third. 

Lucas’ last year of high school was a little harder than he generally cared to avow, only because getting through the days without Eliott’s smiling face greeting him after every class was the exact opposite of motivational. Eliott actually made going to school worth it. 

And then he made all of those new friends at university which, admittedly, there may have been a tad bit of jealousy on Lucas’ side, thinking that Eliott was going to move on and want to hang out with people his own age, not a bunch of high schoolers anymore. The insecurities caused a few tifts between the two, but eventually once Lucas got to spend time with the guys that occupied the other half of Eliott’s time, he realized they weren’t so horrible and he could get used to them. Except, there was that  _ super  _ short period where Lucas despised Idriss with every fucking particle of his being because he thought Eliott had feelings for him, but it turns out he was completely overthinking it and there was nothing going on. Hopefully. He’s still not sure. Point is, he got over it. 

Lucas’ first year of university he was lucky enough to be roomed with Yann, thankfully, but he was mostly just excited to be back with Eliott. It didn’t matter that they both were swamped with tons of school work and other activities like  _ actual  _ work, and then Lucas’ dumbass insecurities started kicking in  _ again  _ when he feared that all of this shit putting space between him and his best friend was only going to nudge them apart and keep them nudged. He had just felt like he got Eliott back and now they were almost way too busy to do anything with each other. 

It got better, fortunately. And Eliott turned into the hero he’s always been and saved their friendship with countless reassurances and making his own time for them. Lucas is lucky to be able to call him his best friend, really. 

And then there was second year. Second year was both a blessing and a curse, because not only was it the year his Living-Arrangement-Dreams came true and he got to move in with not one of his best friends,  _ but two,  _ (Eliott _and_ Yann) it was also the year that one of said best friends thought it might be a good time to  _ fucking fall in love.  _

Her name was Lucille. She was gorgeous and sweet and everything that Eliott deserved. They looked incredible together, had amazing chemistry, she truly made Eliott happy, and Lucas hated her fucking guts. 100%. No doubt about it, no room for any other emotion towards her than that. 

But not out of spite, not (all) out out of jealousy or resentment, no. It was because, from Eliott’s point of view, she was great. From everyone else’s point of view however, she was needy and demanding and controlling. She didn’t like Eliott’s friends, she didn’t like his taste in music (though Lucas doesn’t either but he’ll still fight to the death to defend it) and she  _ hated  _ that when Eliott wasn’t with her, he was most likely with Lucas. 

And yet, Eliott was blind to this. Sadly lovesick. 

So while Lucas was drowning himself in one night stands every night, Eliott was going on dates and being all cute and romantic and loving with  _ Lucille.  _

\--

\--

Saturday morning Lucas woke up to banging on the wall. Not that someone was trying to get his attention, or trying to wake him, or use the fucking plaster as a drumset. It was two extremely annoying people having obnoxiously loud sex. Lucille needed lower her fucking voice or Lucas was moving out. 

He wouldn’t, he knew that, but it was a nice threat. 

After throwing his pillow over his head for at least 5 more minutes and literally nothing at all happened, he  _ very aggressively  _ tossed the blankets over him and stood up, grabbing his phone and stomping out of his room. It took less than 10 seconds for him to connect to the speakers and blast  _ The Clash  _ all throughout the apartment. 

Chloe is standing in the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee held between her hands as she tries to hide the amused smile on her face. “Sleep well?” 

Lucas mouths an exaggerated,  _ can’t hear you,  _ while motioning towards the air of music. She laughs at him, biting her lip and looking down at the counter. 

Chloe and Yann started dating their first year of college. Lucas was a little wary about her at first but she grew on him. He likes her  _ significantly  _ more than he does Lucille, so that’s cool. 

He glances at the clock on the wall and lets out a grateful breath at the time. He has to be at work in an hour, but he thinks he can find a way to pass the time that isn’t sticking around here and listening to Eliott fuck. 

It doesn’t take him long to get dressed, and he contemplates leaving his phone here with the music just so that he doesn’t have to chance hearing  _ that  _ again, but at the last minute decides against it. Luckily, the short amount of time between him disconnecting his phone and then making a hasty dash out the door was mostly quiet. Save for Chloe’s departing, “Have a nice day at work!” just before he slams it shut. 

He can already feel it, he was  _not_ going to have a nice day at work.

Not nice at all. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word to the person who edits for me @confusedconnor
> 
> ps does anyone remember this

Discretion has always been one of Lucas’ strong suits. He’s  _ great  _ at hiding emotions and being totally, completely subtle; he’s  _ the king  _ of nonchalance, and if there were a medal to be won for remaining Most Neutral, it would be his. His heart is as far away from his sleeve as it can get. 

Or so he likes to think. If this were really the case, then he would have been able to get away with telling Maria Dupont that he had  _ real, romantic  _ feelings for her in middle school; he could have kept a much straighter face than he had when Basile asked him if his trademark striped shirts with the white collars made him look like the guy from  _ Blues Clues  _ and Lucas told him no, they didn't, they actually looked rather good; and he wouldn't have been caught on multiple different occasions either staring longingly at Eliott from afar, or glaring daggers into him and whoever his latest Lover of the Month was.

Unfortunately, he’s not as great at masking his emotions as he likes to think, which is why the only person on the entire planet that's entirely oblivious to him being 100% head over heels in love with Eliott, is Eliott himself. Eliott, who oftentimes prides himself on knowing Lucas better than Lucas knows himself. Eliott, who will go on and on about how there's not a single person in this whole world who can read Lucas better than he can. Eliott, who  _ swears  _ that he can catch Lucas in a lie before it's even fully formed in the boy’s brain. And Lucas thinks,  _ obviously not, because ever since I've met you I’ve looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing to ever exist, and you've never once realized that. _

Everyone else has though, to Lucas’ dismay, and they each take great pleasure and joy in teasing him about it every fucking chance they get. They catch his eye when Eliott walks in shirtless, wink at him when Eliott sits particularly closer to him than what might be necessary, make faces at him when Eliott flirts so innocently and harmlessly like he does. 

Lucas doesn’t think he ever outright admitted to anybody about his feelings. They all just sort of came to the conclusion on their own, because, as much as he hates to admit it, you’d either have to be blind or an idiot to not see the way the adoration takes over his features every time Eliott smiles, or hear the fondness in his voice every time he talks about Eliott, or see the absolute love in his eyes every time he so much as glances in Eliott‘s direction.

And Eliott, as it turns out, is both blind  _ and  _ stupid. Lucas’ heart eyes for his best friend are so fucking outstandingly large that even  _ he  _ can see them. He doesn't— he doesn’t understand how Eliott can be so damn  _ dense  _ sometimes, because Lucas  _ knows  _ how painfully obvious he’s been, how clear he’s made it without outright saying,  _ “I’m in love with you.”  _ And he knows that Eliott doesn’t know because  _ if he did _ then he wouldn’t be so fucking loud with Lucille, knowing he and Lucas share a wall and driving the shorter boy out of their home just to get away from it. 

After Lucas storms out like a moody 13 year old and slams the apartment door shut, he makes the short tread 3 floors down to Manon’s place that she shares with Daphné. Knocks on the door twice, and it takes about 20 seconds before there’s a tired blonde poking her head out with a pink sleep mask splayed across her forehead. She takes one look at him and grumpily asks, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

He smirks, “Time to eat, as always. Are you gonna let me in?” She sighs, but opens the door wider for him anyway and he strolls in, heading straight towards the kitchen. He’s here almost as much as he is his own apartment. It's kind of like a second home to him, which is why he feels perfectly comfortable raiding the cabinets for a box of cereal that actually has sugar in it and doesn't just taste like cardboard. He knows that as healthy and green as the girls enjoy eating, Manon stashes a box of Fruity Pebbles behind the bin where they keep spare rolls of paper towels and plates. Daphné doesn't bat an eye as he maneuvers around the kitchen, pouring himself a mug of coffee and foregoing making her one. He decided instead to make a pretty hefty glass of chocolate milk for her because it’s actually past noon, but Lucas knows well enough that Daphné only wears the sleep mask when she’s hungover, and for some reason she prefers this beverage over coffee. 

“So what's up?” she asks, eyeing him gratefully as she accepts the glass. However thankful she is though, she knows there's got to be a reason he's having breakfast down here with her when he could be upstairs cooking for Eliott and listening to him fawn all over his impressive cooking skills as he so likes to do. 

The boy shrugs, “Thought I might come see what you guys were up to this morning. Where’s Manon?” 

“She stayed at Charles’ last night.” And Lucas hums, squinting his eyes at the blatant bitterness in his friends’ voice as she says that. In his head he waffles back and forth between whether or not he should mention the angry grumble because he knows the subject is pretty touchy for the two girls, or if Daphne will tell him she sees right through his lame ass façade of  _ whatever it is  _ he calls what he’s doing, and then he’ll have to reverse it back on her for doing the same thing. In the end, she beats him to it. “What are you doing here?” 

He's not proud of the  _ literal groan  _ that escapes his mouth as he throws his forehead onto the table and whines, “Lucille is at the apartment  _ twenty four fucking seven  _ and I can't take it anymore,” and he hears a pitying sigh before there’s a hand running soothing circles into his back. 

Daphné, along with the rest of the girls, doesn’t really tease him  _ as mercilessly  _ about his crush like the guys do, but there is the occasional  _ suggestive eyebrow raise  _ when Eliott says something about wanting to get married at some point but not feeling like he’s met that person yet. Or if Lucas is nervous about a date that he knows is going absolutely nowhere but still attends anyways, and Eliott will comment something like,  _ “It would be incredibly hard for him not to immediately fall in love with you as soon as he meets you,”  _ because he thinks it will make Lucas feel better but really it only pulls at his heart strings because  _ if that's the case, then why aren't you in love with me? _

They all like to gush about it, tell Lucas how great of a couple they think the two boys would be, how there’s literally no two people on the planet better fit for each other. Sometimes Lucas lets himself believe it. He’ll allow himself to play into it and imagine a life where he and Eliott are shamelessly and unconditionally in love with each other. It feels good for a little bit, but only until he’s hit with the harsh reality that they’ll never be  _ that,  _ because Eliott will never think of him as anything more than the adorable best friend. Plus Lucille is a thing, and if it’s not Lucille then it’s someone else because Lucas will never meet the unbelievable expectations of those lucky enough to be loved by  _ the  _ Eliott Demaury. 

The worst thing that  _ everyone  _ does though, is try to convince Lucas it’s a good idea to confess his feelings to Eliott, as if he hasn’t already tried to a million times before, in a million different ways. His mom is constantly telling him,  _ “If you were just honest with him sweety, I promise it would really do you some favors.”  _ And then he gets hounded by Manon saying,  _ “Keeping it to yourself is only holding you back. How do you know it wouldn’t benefit you?”  _ And if not Manon then it’s Yann with his annoying ass,  _ “What’s the worst that could happen, bro?” _ And what  _ is  _ the worst that could happen? It could ruin the best thing in Lucas’ life, no offense to everyone else. 

He readies himself for the inevitable words of encouragement from Daphné right now. As soon as he felt her hand on his back he could basically hear her words already, and it’s not long before they’re out there in the open, only confirming what he had hoped wouldn’t be. “I really feel like it could be something great for you,” she voices softly, and he closes his eyes in defeat. 

_ Ditto, Daphy,  _ he thinks to himself. “I really feel like it could be the worst fucking thing to happen to me.” 

“Lucas. How many years has it been now?” Four - it’s been four, agonizingly slow, extremely painful years. “It’s not good for you to keep this all bottled up inside and not open up about it.” 

He jerks his head up and cocks a defiant eyebrow. “I’m not keeping it bottled up inside, I’m talking to  _ you  _ about it. And literally everyone else.” 

She purses her lips and gives him a stern, pointed look - one that makes him coil up in his seat. “Not to the one person who actually matters, though.” And she’s right, of course, but sometimes honesty does more harm than good. Sometimes it’s better to keep things to yourself, _especially_ if an entire friendship is at stake. Even more so when all the chances he has actually decided to take, flew completely over Eliott’s head, so what else can that be other than the universe telling him, _give up, it isn’t going to happen_? He has no idea what he would do if something so fucking trivial as a tiny little crush ruined everything that they were for each other. Now he can’t imagine risking it all for a slight chance Eliott might feel the same way. It’s not worth it. 

He sighs, “It’s not going to happen, Daphy. I can’t.” 

“What if you’re wrong? What if Eliott returned your feelings?”

_ What if he did? What if Manon returned yours? What a fucking concept. One that we only hurt ourselves thinking about. _

He tilts his head at her, furrows his eyebrows and gives her a ‘get real’ look.

“I’m serious, Lucas. You haven’t seen the way he looks at you. We all have. We know.”

And that’s where she’s wrong, that’s where it hurts the most; Lucas  _ has  _ seen. There’s no way to not notice the sheer love that pours out of the older boy when he peers down at Lucas. The fascination, the admiration. It’s like Lucas hung the fucking moon, but that’s only because they’ve been through a lot together; experienced a lot, shared a lot. There was a profound connection between the two, unlike anything they have with anyone else. Not to say that their relationships with the others aren’t significant as well, but—  _ they’re _ different. Like they were put on this planet to know each other - to be great with each other, just— not  _ with  _ each other in the way Lucas wants. 

He takes a breath and leans back in his chair. He really had no intention of having this conversation today, and right before work, no less, nor did he mean to wake Daphné up to have it with him while she suffers through a hangover. 

“I should get going,” he announces as he stands up. “Thanks for talking to me. Sorry I woke you.” His smile is bashful as he hugs her and kisses her on the cheek. 

“Don’t be silly,” she tells him, “You’re my favorite person to gossip with.” He rolls his eyes fondly, waving her off as if her words don’t spark something warm inside him. “And Lucas?”

“Hm?” 

“Eliott would be the luckiest guy in the universe to have you.”

—

—

Lucas’ grandma had dementia before she passed away. It was difficult to watch, but at the same time he was still pretty young and he hadn't actually grasped the concept all that well. He remembers, though, how terrified he used to be when they’d go visit her in the nursing home because old people scared him,  _ why were there so many there? They were everywhere.  _ He’s not so sure what changed between then and now, but somewhere along the line he decided maybe old people weren't that bad and maybe just maybe he’d like to make a career out of caring for them. 

It was an easy decision to go into nursing school, and he started applying for jobs the second he got his nurse aide certificate. It was sheer luck that the first place he applied to hired him pretty quickly and he’s been there ever since. Though sometimes it’s difficult, sometimes it takes a toll on him, sometimes all he wants to do is come home and crawl under his covers and stay there because there’s too much fucking sadness and heartbreak in this world for him to deal with. And he might, maybe, if it weren't for the fact that it was every bit rewarding as much as it was sad. Every smile that he got, every kiss on the cheek, every song that was sung to him, and every  _ “I love you”  _ , it all made up for it. 

Even moments like right now, as he’s just finishing up bathing stubborn Mr. Gerard and as usual, from the minute he walked in, he’s been criticized and complained about and cussed at, and he just smiles it off. He’s used to it, and he also has it on good authority that even though Mr. Gerard’s seemingly favorite thing to do is bitch at Lucas about how horrible he’s doing his job, the old man holds a secret fondness for him that isn’t there for the other employee’s. 

After Lucas has got him situated in his recliner, his legs propped up at just the right angle, and a pillow - not too fluffy, not too flat - supporting the back of his head, Lucas reminds him that someone should be by in about 20 minutes to taking him to the dining hall for dinner. “Is there anything else you need before I go?” The man grunts in reply and Lucas adds, “Alright, ring if anything comes up.” There’s a gruff,  _ yeah yeah,  _ that he hears just after he turns around to leave, and it makes him smile, shaking his head. 

He’s got maybe a 15 minute window to break before things start getting busy again, and there’s a sense of accomplishment mixed with relief that he feels knowing he got all of his showers done before dinner. Though, for some people it may not even matter what with the amount of  _ mess  _ they make while eating, and then he’s just going to have to wipe them down again afterwards. 

Just as he’s turning down the hall to head towards the break room, one of the other aides on his hall says his name. He swivels around, sees Sarah standing at the corner. “There’s someone at the front desk for you.”

It used to be when he heard that his heart would speed up 5 times it’s normal rate. The hair on the back of his neck would stick right up; his stomach would twist into uncomfortable knots; and then he’d have to carry himself down the halls on uneasy feet, every step getting heavier until the desk was alas in sight. Then he’d either feel immense joy inside of him, or immense dread. Joy, if it was one of his friends stopping by to say hi or to bring him something, but dread if it was his father. His father, who thankfully has no idea where Lucas’ apartment is, but somehow knows where his work is, so he makes a point of showing up at the worst possible times, thinking he can try to steal a few minutes of his time to “catch up” but luckily Lucas is always too busy. Mostly. 

It’s not a lie, they’re usually pretty short staffed so he doesn’t really allow himself to take the breaks that he’s given to eat or rest, let alone speak to his sorry excuse of a father who only bothers to check in just so that he can say that  _ he tried.  _

Lucas has gotten better at not having a complete internal break down every time he hears that he has a visitor, and he isn’t sure if it’s because his dad hasn’t shown up in a couple of weeks, or because the longer this bullshit goes on, the less he allows himself to spare a second thought at all of the resentment he feels. 

Fortunately, when the front desk comes into his line of sight, it’s not his asshole of a father he sees, but his best friend. Eliott’s leaning casually against the flat top, his arm bent at the elbow all cool-like with his legs crossed as he chats with Ingrid, another aide that’s filling in as receptionist. She throws her head back in a laugh at something that he says, and Lucas smiles - Eliott’s the king of flirting with people and being completely unaware he’s doing so, but making them feel ridiculously special nonetheless. 

“What are you doing here?” Lucas questions as he approaches, getting the two peoples’ attention. As soon as he catches Eliott’s eye he’s met with a beam so bright it could light the entire city. It’s hard not to mirror it. 

“Chloe said you left in a rush this morning. Thought I’d bring you some food,” he holds out a brown paper bag for Lucas, and the shorter boy can't help but to feel a surge of affection inside him.

“You didn't have to do that.” 

Eliott flicks his shoulders up and smiles softly. “The least I could do after being interrupted by  _ The Clash  _ this morning and--,” Lucas blushes, frantically glancing at Ingrid who’s looking pointedly down at the computer and very obviously trying to hide an awkward grin.  

“Eh-- let’s um,” he jerks his head in the direction of the doors, motioning for Eliott to follow him. “Sorry about the--” he gestures vaguely, “this morning.” 

“It’s fine, Lu. I, uh-- I didn’t mean to wake anyone up. And I didn’t  _ plan  _ on it, it just--” 

Okay, that’s enough. Lucas shakes his head. “It’s--  you’re good,” he grimaces, waving a hand to shut him up. The way Eliott bows his head shyly, it sparks a keenness deep inside Lucas; he relishes in how fucking adorable Eliott looks. He leads them to a bench in one of the gardens and sits down on one end of it, expecting Eliott to take the other but instead he plops a few mere inches away, not that Lucas minds.

Lunch is a sandwich, some chips, an apple and a juice, and Lucas goes to bite into the bread with extreme preparation because only Eliott can fuck up a PB&J, but he notices his best friend watching him expectantly, a giddy smile plastered on his lips. It would be endearing if it wasn't so alarming, and that's why he pause before he bites. “Eliott,” he asks warily, “Is this one of your special recipes?” 

“Special? I don't know if I would say  _ special,” _ Eliott answers, a curious lace to his voice. He laughs, “Unless you want me to tell you that there's a secret ingredient--” Lucas’ stomach clinches unnervingly at the thought, “--and that that ingredient is  _ love,  _ because if that's the case then yes,” he winks, “there is  _ so _ much secret ingredient in there,” His smile is blinding. Always. “Wait, why do you look so scared right now-- _ Lucas! _ Is this about my cooking again? Just because I had  _ a couple  _ bad dishes doesn't mean that you'll get food poisoning every time.” He has the audacity to look  _ offended,  _ and Lucas tilts his head to the side, giving his best  _ don’t bullshit me  _ look that he knows Eliott is no match for. He scoffs, “I think I can master something as simple as spreading peanut butter and jalapeńo’s on a slice of bread, asshole, what the fuck?” 

_ Jalapeño’s?  _ “Eliott, are there jalapeño's on this?” 

There's an exasperated eyeroll and Eliott’s flinging himself back in a huff. “Eat your sandwich.” 

“Well I don't know if I want to now,” Lucas cracks, grinning at Eliott, not being able to help the way his heart skips a beat at the gentle demand, how worked up Eliott got. He takes a bite anyways, ignoring the light crunch that he hears and hoping that something had coincidentally crushed a leaf nearby at the exact same time.  _ Okay,  _ he thinks,  _ we’ve been through this enough times to just smile and thumbs up, and force it the fuck down.  _ And that's what he does - smiles, gives a thumbs up, “Mmm, this is-- is-- is that olives?” 

Eliott nods enthusiastically, “And cinnamon! Isn't that fun?” 

Lucas attempts a smile around the food but thinks it comes out as more of a grimace. “More fun than jalapeño's?” 

“Just wait till next week's lunch,” he smirks, coughing into his elbow. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Lucas inquiries, worried if Eliott’s getting sick or not. He’s always had a natural nurturing side but it seems to amp up the most when Eliott's involved. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“You sound horrible.” 

Eliott narrows his eyes playfully, lips curving up. “You sure do know how to sweet talk, eh?”

“Shut up,” Lucas chuckles, nudging his side. “Are you getting sick?” 

Eliott reaches for the unopened bag of chips in Lucas’ lap. He breaks the bag, throws a couple in his mouth and stares at the flowers in front of him as he crunches - rather loudly, Lucas might add - before shrugging. “I don’t think so,” and then promptly coughs into his sleeve  _ once again _ . “That was a coincidence.” It makes Lucas roll his eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it, even if it is frustrating how little Eliott seems to care about his own well-being.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucas can see his friend staring at him, considering him, until finally, “What about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Is everything okay with you?”

The question takes him by surprise, makes him stop mid chew of his apple. Eliott’s voice is laid back, calm, not too intrusive, but there’s still a hint of concern in it. “Um-- yes? Why?” The older boy fidgets next to him, and Lucas can see the apprehension in the way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I don’t know, I feel like you’ve been distant...”  _ Distant?  _ “Is it… because Lucille has been around a lot lately? Because I know how everyone feels about her but really, if you just spent more time with her I swear you’d see she’s actually cool.” 

And this is where Lucas would like to check out. To anyone who knows them - anyone who’s ever met the two of them together, spoken to them in the briefest way,  _ looked at them  _ walking down the street, it would be obvious that Lucas would do anything for Eliott. Like, name it, and he’s on it. Bake him an entire batch of cookies at 3 in the morning just because he wants them? Agree to go to a haunted maze with him on halloween night even though Lucas is deathly afraid of the dark  _ and  _ haunted things? Even eat a full course meal that he prepared all by himself just because it would make him happy to see Lucas enjoying his food?

Lucas has  _ gladly  _ done all of these things, admittedly with a bit of trepidation, sure, but what matters is that he did them at all, and would absolutely, without a doubt do them again. Simply because Eliott’s his best friend and he loves him. However, spending more time with Lucille than what’s strictly necessary? All so that he can  _ get to know her??? _ He can’t think of a single thing on this entire planet that sounds less appealing to him. 

“I’m sure she is,” he chokes out instead of  _ explicitly agreeing  _ because that’s not really what he wants to do. He knows he’s caught, he knows Eliott can see right through him because he’s always been able to do that, and right now he cuts his eyes, tilts his head and gives Lucas this pointed look like he knows exactly what’s going through the younger boys’ mind. It makes him want to shrivel into himself and hide away. 

“Lucas.” 

“What?” 

“We’re going to the movies, why don’t you come with us?” 

As exciting as third wheeling on a date with his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend sounds, he is unfortunately going to have to pass that up. “That’s okay, Eliott.”

“Lucas.” 

Suppressing the biggest eye roll he’s ever had to, he turns his body on the bench to face Eliott and throws an arm across the back. “What?” 

Lucas is good at saying no. He really is. If he doesn’t want to do something, he doesn’t. He’s a pro at resisting; resisting Daphné when she puffs out her bottom lip, resisting Basile when he’s using his really whiny voice, resisting Emma when she’s drunk and turns into an emotional wreck. But one thing that he can’t resist (not that there are a lot of times when he actually  _ wants to _ ) is when Eliott looks at him straight in the eye, his blue irises shining, pleading, sparkling with so many different things. They pull him in like a fish on a hook, luring him with bait and then he’s stuck - being dragged out of the water and left gasping for air. And then he speaks and his voice is so tender, so warm, so  _ inviting.  _ Always making Lucas feel safe, always reassuring him that no matter what’s being asked, it’s going to be okay because he has Eliott, because Eliott  _ is there.  _ That’s why, even if Lucas starts out saying no, it’s never serious, and never for too long, anyways. He can’t deny Eliott of his wishes, always appeasing him just to see the satisfied smile, the little jump of excitement, the tiny squeal of elation. 

Admittedly, the older boy probably, most likely, 100% is definitely aware that just by doing this small little thing, he can easily get Lucas, or anyone else for that matter, to do whatever the fuck he wants them to. And there is a very large possibility that he uses this to his advantage,  _ especially  _ with his best friend. 

So when he does this, when he levels Lucas with that gaze that’s strong enough to reach your fucking soul, and he speaks out a low, soft, barely audible, “Please,” Lucas has no choice but to shut his eyes in admission to defeat. 

“When?” 

And there it is. Unfailingly thrilled. “Tonight. You can even bring someone if you want.” Lucas doesn’t, not in the slightest, but he supposes having someone to endure this shit fest with would probably be less agonizing than if he were completely by himself. 

That’s how Lucas spends the rest of his shift at work - texting each one of his friends,  _ unabashedly begging them  _ to come with him, but yet, somehow not one of these assholes can free up their schedule for a fucking midnight showing of some horror movie. All on dates, or studying at the library, or what the hell ever, Lucas didn’t know, only that they all sucked. 

He had almost,  _ almost  _ conned Basile out of going to his study session and coming with Lucas instead, but even he’s not dumb enough to get roped into this anymore than the rest of them already are. 

It’s not until 11 o’clock rolls around that he’s checking out and fucking praying that one of his superiors had a last minute call in and needed him to pull a double. It doesn’t happen, unfortunately, but what does happen is that he runs into the nurse that was on his hall tonight -  _ Tom,  _ and somehow finds the guts within himself to ask, “Hey, are you doing anything after this?” 

Tom looks at him, furrows his eyebrows but not in an unpleasant way, more out of curiosity. “Uh-- no?” 

“Would you want to come to the movies with me? My best friend asked me to go but he’s bringing his girlfriend and…”

Realization dawns on Tom and he grins, “You need a date,” to which Lucas responds with a breathy laugh and says, “Pretty much.”

“Sure.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” They’re walking in the parking lot now, and Lucas isn’t really sure where Tom’s heading but  _ he’s  _ going to his bike. “I mean, I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while now anyways, so...”

At this, Lucas snaps his head up at the other guy, eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. “You-- what?” The keys that he’s been fiddling with this entire time drop to the ground, and Lucas uses it as an excuse to look away, bending down and cursing to himself. When he stands back up he thinks he’s a little more gathered than before, so he tries eye contact one more time. 

Tom flicks his shoulders up nonchalantly, hands hidden in his pockets and he looks ahead of them with a confident smile etched into his features. “Well, yeah. You intrigue me.” 

_ Intrigue?  _ Is Lucas hearing this correctly? Did he just say he was intrigued? 

“I-- uh--” 

Tom laughs, keeps walking towards Lucas’ bike, leaving the other guy behind and Lucas hurries to catch up. “So, should I meet you there?”

“Yeah, that-- sounds good.”

“Cool,” Tom grins at him, rocking on his feet. “I’ll see you then, Lucas.” 

“S-see you,” and with that, Lucas is left staring at his retrieving figure. He-- doesn’t know what just happened. He’s seen Tom around, he’s appreciated his work and maybe even how he looks doing it sometimes, but that’s as far as he’d gotten. He’d never in a fucking million years imagine asking him out, or  _ being  _ asked out by him, but hey, guess there’s a first time for everything. 

\--

\--

Tom seems like he could get along with anyone. He’s kind, and he’s funny, and his openness makes Lucas feel a little less tense around him (because Lucas isn’t good around people he doesn’t know very well). He’s a people person, and Lucas can say the same thing about Eliott. Eliott’s so open and he’s charismatic, and hell, just his damn smile could make fucking Red Forman crack one just as wide. Lucas loves that about him, loves how he’s got this welcoming, super genuine aura about him that just makes everyone around him feel so comfortable and at ease. He’s just really great, and--

Lucas is getting away from himself. There was a point to this. The point is that there are these two, ridiculously nice and overwhelmingly friendly people, and one would  _ think  _ they’d get along perfectly but for some reason they’re just not. There’s no clicking, only clashing, but to be fair, it could be partly due to the way Eliott’s making no attempt to  _ click _ , because Lucas is fairly certain it’s not for lack of trying on Tom’s part. 

Eliott’s been standoffish since they met Tom at the theater; barely reaching a hand out to shake, hardly saying a word to him during introductions, and anything Tom has said to him since, Eliott’s only mumbled some vague, half assed response. Frankly, he’s kind of acting like an asshole and Lucas so bad wants to call him out on it, but he doesn’t.

When they got out of the movies (after Eliott demanded he take the seat on Lucas’ other side) they decided to go get something to eat, and since the only place open was some late night bar & grill, they went there. Lucille’s saying something about the movie, how she didn’t enjoy it as much as she thought she would because the acting wasn’t that great. Tom agrees with her, offering his two cents. 

“I do think the cinematography was pretty well done, I’ll give it that.” 

Lucas smiles, and he finds he’s enjoying himself more than he thought he would, but it may just be because having someone new to the clan makes Lucille a bit more bearable than usual, perhaps she’s reining it in a little in attempt not to scare off the newcomers, though Lucas thinks that was never the case when she first met him and the rest of the guys. He glances over at Eliott, thinking this is the perfect opportunity to get a conversation rolling, what with Eliott being the film buff that he is.

“Eli,” Lucas says, trying to catch his attention from where he’s glaring daggers into Tom every time the guy so much as opens his mouth.  _ “Eliott.”  _ He tries again, nudging him with his foot under the table, and that finally gets him to look. “What’d you think?” 

“Of what?”

Lucas rolls his eyes, fed up. “The movie, what else?” 

“It was alright,” he sits up straighter in his seat and tosses an arm over the back.

“That’s it? You don’t have some pretentious, know-it-all comment to make?” 

“It was a horror movie, Lu, there’s not much to it.” 

Tom tilts his head, Lucas catching the movement out of the corner of his eye and he turns to the guy next to him. “I disagree. Some horror movies are actually pretty complex, and I think taking into account the difficulties of filming, trying to get certain scenes to turn out just perfect enough to make them into the iconic masterpieces they are today, deserves at least a little bit of credit.” Lucille’s face is blank, but slightly intrigued, Eliott looks annoyed, and Lucas just watches, waiting for a twig to get snapped and everything to come crashing down.

At everyone’s silence, Tom proceeds, “Take  _ Psycho,  _ for example, it took 78 camera setups to shoot the shower scene and they spent an entire week doing it. I mean--” he whistles, impressed, and leans back.

_ “Psycho?”  _ Eliott snorts, his features covered in disinterest and annoyance. Lucas glares at him, “What’s wrong with  _ Psycho,  _ Eliott?” 

“Nothing, other than the fact that it’s a cliché movie choice.”

“It’s a classic, it’s not cliché. Don’t be an ass,” and he seems taken aback by Lucas’ failure to support,  _ and  _ his choice of name calling, and Lucas in return raises a defiant eyebrow, challenging him. They end up glaring at each other, both too stubborn to look away. In the end it’s Eliott who does so, but only because Tom addresses him.

“What’s your genre of choice, then?” 

“Romance.” Lucas answers before Eliott has a chance to, and Eliott’s eyes are back on him again, betrayal glistening behind them.

Lucas isn’t wrong, Eliott does love romance, he’s a fucking sap, but he doesn’t know why he was so quick to confirm that outloud. There’s nothing wrong with romance, or Eliott favoring that over all the other genres. In fact, that’s another thing Lucas has always admired about his best friend - how he was a sucker for a good love story and a happy ending. 

Tom nods and repeats, “Romance, huh? I guess I can understand that...” he pauses, and Lucas closes his eyes in preparation because he can hear it in the tone of his voice; something is coming and Eliott isn’t going to like it. “What with all the…  _ originality,  _ you know,” as soon as the words are out Lucas’ eyes shoot open, immediately landing on Eliott because it’s like some weird, natural reflex he has to check on him, gauge his reaction, and  _ fuck,  _ this was a bad idea. Eliott’s face is blank, his eyes dark and dangerous, bordering on murderous. Lucas thinks,  _ if looks could kill.  _ He chimes in quickly, not wanting any of this to escalate, and he speaks loud and sure, not leaving room for anyone else. “Well I am  _ beat.  _ What about you guys? I think it’s time to get out of here, no?” 

It takes some effort, and he has to kick Eliott a few more times under the table in order for him to break the staring match he’s having with Tom, but eventually they’re all 4 cleared out of the restaurant, huddled together awkwardly out front as Lucas attempts to figure out the goodbye situation with his coworker. He folds his lips together, shifts his gaze back and forth between Tom and the cement they’re standing on, and just as he’s about to speak up, say something, Eliott’s voice sounds behind him. 

“I’m gonna go swing the car around, give you two time to uh—“ he waves his hand vaguely and Lucas crinkles his eyebrows together wondering what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it for too long because the awful, gut wrenching sound of Lucille’s laughter pulls him out of his spell and he realizes he’s been longingly staring after her and Eliott’s retrieving forms, his arm around her shoulder and her cuddled into his side as they amble happily down the sidewalk while Lucas pathetically stays behind and wishes he could take her place.

“Dude, you got it bad.”

It startles Lucas, because as horrible as it may sound, he’d forgotten Tom was standing right there with him. “What are you talking about?” He feigns confusion, as if this isn’t something he hasn’t already heard a thousand times before, as if this isn’t something he’s been  _ abundantly  _ aware of since his second year of high school. Tom levels him with a look, says nothing but that’s all Lucas needs for his cheeks to tint pink and tilts his head down sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?” 

“Ehh,” Tom draws it out, his voice getting higher at the end as he contemplates. “Only if you’re blind.” 

“Tom!” 

“What? I’m serious. And he's not that oblivious either, heart eyes for you a daggers for everyone else, it seems.”

Lucas’ cheeks burn at that but he decides to ignore both. “He is too  _ oblivious  _ because it’s ridiculously fucking insane to even  _ entertain  _ the idea of either of us ever looking at each other as more than friends.” 

“Is it insane to you?” 

_ No, not anymore,  _ Lucas thinks, but only because he’s had time to let it sink in, to deal with it and accept it. It’s been fucking  _ years  _ that he’s had to come to terms with it, and now it’s just, a part of him. He can’t imagine a life where he  _ wasn’t  _ in love with Eliott.

He remains quiet, and Tom takes from that whatever he wanted to. “That’s what I thought.” Lucas doesn’t respond to that, not really sure what it means to begin with.

“Um, thanks for coming with me tonight.” 

Tom smiles at him, and  _ Lucas  _ would have to be blind not to see how truly great of a smile it was. “Yeah, of course. Anytime.” 

“And… sorry about him. He’s not usually like this.”

“S’okay,” Tom waves him off. “But if you ever feel like you need to make him jealous, I’m your guy,” he smirks, throwing a wink at Lucas and making him burst out a genuine, throaty laugh. “We already know it works,” 

“Yeah, okay.”

It’s not long after that Eliott’s pulling up, Lucille in the passenger’s seat not paying a lick of attention to anything around her and Lucas only has a few more seconds to regret agreeing to ride with them after he had made it home in time for just a quick little shower. He hugs Tom, thanks him again for coming, and when he pulls away he swears he could see Eliott hastily turn his head away from them, but he chalks it down to his own dumb wishful thinking. 

The ride back to their apartment is quiet. Lucas sits in the backseat with his head leant against the window as he watches the city pass by him. Eliott moves to turn the radio on but Lucille reaches out to stop him, saying, “Actually, can we not? I have a headache and I really can’t stand to hear any of your EMD right now.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes and can’t seem to stop himself from correcting, “It’s E-D-M.” 

“That’s what I said.”

“It’s not, but okay,” he mumbles, giving in, figuring it’s not worth the argument. 

Eliott stays quiet, but Lucas peers at the side of his face for the rest of the way, and the only thoughts forming inside his head is how fucking breathtaking Eliott is. Always. 

Three minutes away and Eliott coughs. Lucas scoffs in the backseat, breathing out a laugh. “I told you to wear a jacket tonight.”

“I didn’t need it before, Lu.”

“And now you’re sick, so...” he trails off teasingly, catching Eliott’s eye in the rearview mirror and grinning. Lucille interrupts with a horrified exclamation of, “You’re sick?!” 

“No, I’m not—“ 

“I hope not,” she replies, and maybe she doesn’t mean for it to come out as snotty as it does. Maybe she meant for it to be a bit more lighthearted; a joke. “I am  _ not  _ going to be the one who nurses you back to health. It’s not my thing.” 

_ Good thing it’s mine,  _ Lucas aches to say.

Eliott’s silent at first, Lucas watches the expressions fall over his face; watches him worry his bottom lip, watches him tap his fingers anxiously on the wheel. When he finally speaks, his voice is small, a hint of hurt in it if Lucas really listens, and irritation, but he doubts Lucille notices. “I think you’re in the clear, Lucille. I’m fine.” 

The car idles in front of the apartment building when they get there, and Lucas moves to unbuckle his seatbelt when he realizes the lack of movement from the two people up front. “You’re not coming in?” 

“Luc and I are gonna stay at hers tonight.” 

_ Luc.  _ The nickname makes Lucas’ stomach weak. Why does it have to be so similar to Lucas’ own?

“Oh, uh… okay. See you tomorrow then.” 

“Yeah.”

He tries not to think about it, the sudden coldness coming from Eliott, how he’s acting so detached and disinterested in Lucas or anything he has to say. And as he climbs the stairs to their floor, he tries not to think about how lucky Lucille is that  _ she’s  _ the one going home with Eliott tonight.  _ She’s  _ the one who gets to fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the same bliss.  _ She’s  _ the one who has Eliott’s entire heart and she doesn’t even deserve it. 

It infuriates Lucas.

When he unlocks the door to his flat, Chloe and Yann are cuddled up on the couch together watching a movie of some sort, and they pause it when he walks in, both of their attention fully on him. Yann raises his eyebrows expectantly, as if to ask,  _ well? _

_ “This  _ is what you guys were too busy doing to help me out on my disaster of a double date? A fucking movie? You guys  _ suck.”  _ He stomps over to the loveseat, plops down in a pout and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“That bad, huh?” 

Lucas turns to Yann, glares at him with all the heat he can muster. “Worst. Night. Ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the disappearance :/

**Author's Note:**

> @spn-skam on tumblr if you wanna say hi :)


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